I just Want You to Know
by BlackLadyCharon
Summary: Sometimes our greatest mistakes lead to our greatest treasures... Set after DMC3, when Vergil's in hell. VergilXOC, light romance.


Author's notes: This is the first story in a kind of series/arc dealing with Vergil and my OC Amaranth, though it's not the first one posted up. The middle parts, dealing with the Mallet Island incident and the two years leading up to Amaranth's death will show up as soon as I get my lazy butt in gear and start working on them. Which maybe awhile, I need to pry my broth off of the third DMC so that I can replay my way through the first one.

Disclaimers: I own the game disks, but capcom owns the story, the weapons, and all the characters apart from Amaranth. Please, don't sue me.

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I Just Want You to Know… 

By: BlackLadyCharon

Mundus's dungeons had never been hospitable. They were damp, mildewed, infested with Beelzebub maggots, and had a perpetual smell of rotting meat. This was the more inhabitable level. The foulness of the level the dungeon's only two occupants at current were in could only be described in High Demonic, and even then with great difficulty. The earlier occupant was staring at the new one. She wasn't entirely sure when he'd been added, as she'd been sleeping, but the long and varied swearing at the top of what had to be partly demonic lungs was something she couldn't sleep through. After some climbing, contorting, and quiet swearing of her own, she peeked through the grate inbetween the cells. All she could see was white hair that reminded her of her Uncle's pet cockatoo and a blue coat. Given his tone of voice, she'd say he was about her age, if age had any meaning in Hell. Still, the fact remained that his yelling was disrupting her sleep. Even in a dungeon, there had to be some manners.

"Excuse me, but would it be too much to ask you to cease ranting? Some of us suffer from insomnia down here, and no amount of yelling will get Mundus to let you out, no matter how innovative your cursing and threats are." Vergil choked on his next round of curses, looking up at the grating to find out who'd dared address him so rudely. He was a Son of Sparda, even captured because of his own arrogance and pride. All he saw was the palest brown eyes he'd ever seen in his life, just a few shades too dark to be considered yellow, some grime smeared skin, and hair that rivaled Nevan's for unnatural redness. Yet it reminded Vergil of dark rubies rather than fresh blood. The other prisoner regarded him frankly from her cell, as if she expected an answer back. Vergil leveled his best glare at her, hoping it'd scare her enough to go away. No such luck, she'd been around full demons too long.

"So, what did Mundus stick you down here for? Yawning during one of his insufferable speeches?" Humor, from this little bit of living being? Vergil sorted through his thoughts and memories and settled on only one species she could possibly be. He was dying of curiosity to know why Mundus had a human female locked away in his dungeons. But refused to let it show.

"Challenging him and losing." Vergil hoped the curt answer would deter her. Instead, a serious look came into those pale eyes.

"That's not good. Losing to him gives him a hold over you. He can use that hold to break you if you challenge him again." Before he could articulate a response, the eyes disappeared from view. Vergil frowned, then resolutely turned to study the small, nasty cell that was his prison, trying to put the human's eyes out of his mind.

He didn't really succeed.

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Vergil rapidly lost track of time. Irregular meals of hard bread and stale water appeared, his jailors never saying anything to him. Every now and again the human would stare through the grate again. The silence was slowly getting to him. There'd been voices in the Human World, and the soft, ever enduring mental mumble of his lunk headed twin within his mind. Now, even that was gone, and a part of him mourned his hubris in violently rejecting his twin and his humanity. Vergil was discovering that he wasn't devil enough to be immune to loneliness, and it frustrated him. So, the next time the female decided to watch her fellow inmate, he spoke to her.

"Why would Mundus keep a human female alive in his dungeons?" There was a rapid blink blink of the human's eyes. Clearly, she'd not expected questions.

"My uncle chucked me into the bargain on an open the hellgates thing. The virgin human bride thing. Only I refused to be the bride, so he locked me down here to try to force my agreement." She made a cute scoffing sound. "I'd rather die down here then marry old Three Eyes." She fell silent for a time, staring so intently that Vergil felt she was looking at his soul. The next sentence was soft, both reverent and frightened. "You're a Sparda, aren't you. Mundus wouldn't lock anyone but me and Sparda's line down in this section of the dungeons." Vergil ignored her, will aware that in itself probably counted as an answer. She looked at him, then closed her eyes. Vergil thought she planned to just disappear as usual, until she spoke again.

"I pity you, Son of Sparda. To fall so far… and still fail to see the folly of you actions." She paused. "I will pray to whatever Power might listen for you." She slipped out of sight even as an angry retort formed in Vergil's mind.

Perplexing, vexating, irritating, annoy, HUMAN female!

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More time passed, more horrible bread and water meals, still untalkative jailors. Vergil kept having short, stilted conversations with the human whenever she stared through the grate. She was the only person who'd talk to him. Even that was limited to as long as she felt the conversation should last. Often enough she'd end the conversation by disappearing from the grate. Leaving him frustrated until she opted to appear at the grate again. After the sixth or seventh time they'd talked, it dawned on Vergil that he'd never asked her name. It seemed the logical place to begin their next conversation.

"I assume you have a name, human. Would you mind telling me it, so I can stop referring to you by sex or species?" Wicked amusement sparkled in her eyes at this. Clearly he provided an endless source of entertainment for her.

"Well, DEMON, I could tell you my name, but the again, you've never offered me yours." Vergil felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth. He'd come to treasure her intricate blend of audacity and politeness. It brought a small amount of light and life to the barren bleakness the dungeons usually were. Strange, that what had been so annoying when Dante did it merely made her so charming. Sensing she was about to do one of her abrupt departures, Vergil spoke.

"Vergil." She paused, curiosity glimmering in her eyes. For the first time in ages, Vergil felt a flicker of the fascination and wonder that had driven his father to protect humans. "That's my name. You wanted to know it, right?" Those ever so expressive eyes lit up with a smile he couldn't see physically.

"Hallo, Vergil. My name's Amaranth." She paused at his bark of laughter. The flower that never died, according to legend. The Amaranth, the most precious being whose love could save even the darkest soul… or utterly destroy it. He smiled up at Amaranth's indignant eyes.

"It suits you… Amaranth." She huffed and dropped out of sight. Vergil smirked, feeling a bit of vindictive pleasure. For once, he'd gotten the upper hand in his and Amaranth's talks.

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More time, more conversations. Vergil began to truly enjoy his verbal sparring matches with Amaranth. She might be human, but she was quick, witty, and occasionally acid tongued, but always fascinating. It was a relief from the endless imprisonment to argue with someone he'd come to love… wait…

Several dozen demons wondered at the bellow of shock, fury, and horror that emanated from the lowest level of the dungeons. Even Amaranth, who's sleep was once again disturbed by a Son of Sparda yelling at the top of his lungs, wondered. Vergil must have had something unpleasant happen to him. Peeking through the grate netted her Vergil sitting on the floor, head in hands, muttering to himself. Bad idea, those leather pants wouldn't stop Beelzebub maggots forever.

"How could this have happened? How can I not have noticed? Are you happy, Father, that both of your sons have caught your madness? This isn't happening, this isn't happening…" Vergil couldn't admit the truth. He'd fallen for a human who's face he didn't even know. Fallen for Amaranth's acidic wit and humor, for her soul that shone so brightly despite the horrors around her. She wasn't perfect, far from it. She was abrupt and often irritable, never willing to submit even when she was obviously outclassed. Amaranth also wasn't a warrior. No one had trained her to defend herself. Only Mundus's desire kept her safe, or a safe as any human could be in the Demon World. And that safety would be suddenly and harshly revoked if Mundus found out she'd stolen Vergil's heart.

"Vergil, could you tone it down? And you have Beelzebub maggots eating through those pants." Vergil jerked upright at Amaranth's voice, then clambered up on a rock out of maggot range. He looked up at Amaranth, shrugging and managing a smile at the question in her eyes.

"Thanks. I forgot they'll eat through anything." He then deliberately turned and lay down, feigning sleep. He couldn't answer the question in her eyes. He couldn't tell her she'd stolen his heart during their conversations. Mundus would kill her, and Vergil suspected talking to Amaranth was all that was keeping him sane.

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Once again, Vergil was pretending sleep. This time, though, it was because his jailors were finally talking. Vergil listened, and felt dread seep into his heart with every word.

"Ssso, Massster Munduss hasss decided it will be easssier to sssimply desssstroy the human'sss mind inssstead of hoping sssshe'll finally agree jussst to get out of the dungeonsss?" The head jailor, a Sloth, slowly hissed.

"Hai. The human's not cracking, and it's not like Mundus wants her for her mind. All he needs is the body for whelps." One lizard-like one growled. Vergil hadn't found out the name for this particular species. Dead was what he'd like to call this one, though.

"And the Sssparda Hatchling? Hasss Lord Mundusss decided what he wissshesss to do with that one?"

"He's still thinking there. Feeding him to the other Hatchlings is high on the list, but so's breaking him.. He's at least as powerful as his father, maybe more so. If Master Mundus can break him, he'll make a great weapon when the time comes." As the two broke off their conversation to dump the usual bread and water in Vergil's cell, he caught sight of his beloved Yamato tied around the Sloth's waist. That, and the conversation, were the straws that broke the camel's back. The Sloth's head caved in under a single, rage filled punch, and the lizard thing fled shrieking. They'd gotten so used to Vergil being compliant that they'd all but forgotten he was the son of a traitor. Vergil indulged in a moment of sliding Yamato from her sheath, reverently kissing the cold steel and feeling her hum in sheer sadistic joy at being back with her master. The more important thing took precedence. Like finding the keys in the Sloth's pocket. Some part of him, a remnant of the selfish brat who'd raised the Temen-Ni-Gru, tried to insist on leaving. Yet he couldn't do that, honor demanded. He'd defiled so much of his life already, the ties of family, or people. He'd twisted so much of the truth he wasn't sure he hadn't convinced himself that black was white. Yet for all of that, he hadn't betrayed his honor. And honor demanded he free the human who'd kept him sane and who face a fate much worse then mere death. Honor and love combined conquered pride and selfishness.

The cell was as small as his own, and as nasty. It took him a bit to figure out that the small blob of grime covered white cloth was Amaranth. He stared at her, astounded that someone so small could be the source of that vibrant personality. He was tall, a good six feet one, and she was maybe five two barefoot. Her face, under the dirt, was oval, striking rather than pretty. She was also so scrawny clearly underfed. As Vergil contemplated her, Amaranth slowly blinked awake, and stared at him, clearly wondering if she'd gone mad, or if he'd decided to side with Mundus. It broke his heart to see fear of him cross Amaranth's face.

"Vergil?" So soft, so unsure, so frightened. Vergil crossed the cell almost violently, scooping her up and holding her tightly to his chest. Maybe it was stupid, foolhardy, but it felt right. Showing without speaking what he couldn't say. Amaranth tensed, then relaxed, waiting. In a way, no words were needed. Vergil spoke anyway.

"Come on, we've overstayed our welcome." She nodded, smiling up at him. Then furious noises from higher levels suggested the lizard'd found someone who wasn't happy Vergil and Amaranth were no longer confined. Running was probably a very good idea. Both Vergil and Amaranth decided to try it.

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Vergil had now officially cast several of his rules to the wind. Chief among them being never lose to Dante, never fall for a human, and one he really hated tossing to the dogs. Dante'd never let him hear the end of it. Assuming he survived this. Assuming Vergil ever ran into his twin again.

But damn, he was coming to love this shotgun.

It was loud, it was destructive, and it had painted several walls with several Pride's brains. The spells on it kept it loaded, and it worked better against some enemies then Yamato ever would. Not that his Steel Lady wasn't getting a workout too. Still, after the first Shadow, she was more then willing to let the shotgun take the lead. Amaranth may not have found a weapon yet, but plenty of vases and statues had been put to uses their creator's had never envisioned. His Small Huntress was a quick learner.

Vergil paused, smiling in amusement at the mental nickname he'd given Amaranth. She wasn't a huntress yet but with training… training he'd provide… Vergil shook his head and laughed. They weren't safe yet, and he was already planning how to teach Amaranth his family business. He'd better get them out of there before he ended up mentally making layouts for a shop. The middle of Hell was not a good place to be making plans for a future.

"Vergil! I think I've found it!" Amaranth's call led Vergil to a small, easily overlooked cubby. Amaranth was probably right, given the fancy runes and demonic glyphs covering the otherwise blank wall, but there was a problem. Small gates generally led to specific places. The gate could lead to a ruined temple in New Zealand for all Vergil knew. Looking down the hall netted him a familiar, baleful red light, however. Mundus had gotten his lazy butt off of his throne and come looking for his wayward prisoners himself. Vergil winced. No way in Hell could he get Amaranth and himself through and close it from the other side in time. Of the choices they had left, only one appealed to him. The honorable one, hopefully the right one. Amaranth was still studying the writing, absorbed enough in it to not notice the sure signs of an approaching irate Devil King. Yamato trilled a cry of sorrow and regret within his mind at the request he made of her, but agreed. The time for selfishness had passed. Vergil grabbed Amaranth's hand and shoved Yamato into it, looping the tassles around her wrist and tying them. He smiled down into her eyes, hoping she'd understand.

"Live for me, since I won't live for myself." Before she could ask what he meant, Vergil shouted what he hoped was the portal's opening command, touching his amulet to it. Luck proved with him a last time, as it opened and he pushed Amaranth through. It snapped closed as his amulet slipped from the correct glyph, then closed permanently as Vergil concentrated every bit of power he could into the shotgun, blasting the wall into rubble and flinging himself backward into a wall to Mundus's enraged roars. Vergil fell into blackness praying that he wouldn't wake up.

Unfortunately, he eventually did.

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Years had passed, Amaranth thought as she studied the sign over her new shop. It was a new age store on the surface, and a bit more beneath. She thanked her lucky stars she'd landed somewhere in Europe that she knew the language, and in a hunter's backyard to boot. Vergil would've found it annoying, but then again, he'd stayed in Hell to give her a chance. Amaranth had made a promise to herself. One day, she'd find a strong enough portal, and she'd go find him. To free him, or kill him, whichever she could do. One last nod at the sign, and Amaranth went inside.

The shop suited her. She was The Devil's Advocate, after all.

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Nero Angelo frowned behind his mask. His mind tended to wander, taking his body with it. Yet he always ended up in the same place. A simple hallway with a ruined wall. Staring at it always made Nero feel like he knew what had broken it. The knowledge eluded him, taunting him with secrets… and the faintest memory of a smile. A smile that some small, irrational part of Nero…

/_Vergil! My name is Vergil, damn it/_

… of Nero, he thought fiercely, shoving that small part into a corner, would sacrifice anything to protect. He settled his armor with a series of clanks, starting down the hall. He stopped, then started again as a word drifted through his mind, leaving a disquieting warmth in it's wake.

/_Amaranth…/_

Fin

Like? Hate? Review!

Dante: Poor Vergil, always getting tormented, and having to fall for a human.

Vergil: Dante. Shut. Up.

Note, Amaranth is not a Mary Sue. Not is she a self insert. She's kind of a collage of myself, myself as I want to be, and a friend of mine. Please review, I love know what people think of my writing.


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